CHAPTER X.

Dark on their journey lour’d the gloomy day,

Wild were the hills, and doubtful grew the way;

More dark, more gloomy, and more doubtful, show’d

The mansion, which received them from the road.

--THE TRAVELLERS, A ROMANCE.

Angus M’Aulay was charged with a message which he seemed to find some

difficulty in communicating; for it was not till after he had framed his

speech several different ways, and blundered them all, that he succeeded

in letting Sir Duncan Campbell know, that the cavalier who was to

accompany him was waiting in readiness, and that all was prepared for

his return to Inverary. Sir Duncan Campbell rose up very indignantly;

the affront which this message implied immediately driving out of his

recollection the sensibility which had been awakened by the music.

“I little expected this,” he said, looking indignantly at Angus M’Aulay.

“I little thought that there was a Chief in the West Highlands, who, at

the pleasure of a Saxon, would have bid the Knight of Ardenvohr leave

his castle, when the sun was declining from the meridian, and ere the

second cup had been filled. But farewell, sir, the food of a churl does

not satisfy the appetite; when I next revisit Darnlinvarach, it shall be

with a naked sword in one hand, and a firebrand in the other.”

“And if you so come,” said Angus, “I pledge myself to meet you fairly,

though you brought five hundred Campbells at your back, and to afford

you and them such entertainment, that you shall not again complain of

the hospitality of Darnlinvarach.”

“Threatened men,” said Sir Duncan, “live long. Your turn for

gasconading, Laird of M’Aulay, is too well known, that men of honour

should regard your vaunts. To you, my lord, and to Allan, who have

supplied the place of my churlish host, I leave my thanks.--And to you,

pretty mistress,” he said, addressing Annot Lyle, “this little token,

for having opened a fountain which hath been dry for many a year.”

So saying, he left the apartment, and commanded his attendants to be

summoned. Angus M’Aulay, equally embarrassed and incensed at the

charge of inhospitality, which was the greatest possible affront to a

Highlander, did not follow Sir Duncan to the court-yard, where, mounting

his palfrey, which was in readiness, followed by six mounted attendants,

and accompanied by the noble Captain Dalgetty, who had also awaited him,

holding Gustavus ready for action, though he did not draw his girths and

mount till Sir Duncan appeared, the whole cavalcade left the castle.

The journey was long and toilsome, but without any of the extreme

privations which the Laird of M’Aulay had prophesied. In truth, Sir

Duncan was very cautious to avoid those nearer and more secret paths,

by means of which the county of Argyle was accessible from the eastward;

for his relation and chief, the Marquis, was used to boast, that he

would not for a hundred thousand crowns any mortal should know the

passes by which an armed force could penetrate into his country.

Sir Duncan Campbell, therefore, rather shunned the Highlands, and

falling into the Low-country, made for the nearest seaport in the

vicinity, where he had several half-decked galleys, or birlings, as

they were called, at his command. In one of these they embarked, with

Gustavus in company, who was so seasoned to adventure, that land and sea

seemed as indifferent to him as to his master.

The wind being favourable, they pursued their way rapidly with sails and

oars; and early the next morning it was announced to Captain Dalgetty,

then in a small cabin beneath the hall-deck, that the galley was under

the walls of Sir Duncan Campbell’s castle.

Ardenvohr, accordingly, rose high above him, when he came upon the deck

of the galley. It was a gloomy square tower, of considerable size and

great height, situated upon a headland projecting into the salt-water

lake, or arm of the sea, which they had entered on the preceding

evening. A wall, with flanking towers at each angle, surrounded the

castle to landward; but, towards the lake, it was built so near the

brink of the precipice as only to leave room for a battery of seven

guns, designed to protect the fortress from any insult from that side,

although situated too high to be of any effectual use according to the

modern system of warfare.

The eastern sun, rising behind the old tower, flung its shadow far on

the lake, darkening the deck of the galley, on which Captain Dalgetty

now walked, waiting with some impatience the signal to land. Sir Duncan

Campbell, as he was informed by his attendants, was already within the

walls of the castle; but no one encouraged the Captain’s proposal of

following him ashore, until, as they stated, they should receive the

direct permission or order of the Knight of Ardenvohr.

In a short time afterwards the mandate arrived, while a boat, with a

piper in the bow, bearing the Knight of Ardenvohr’s crest in silver upon

his left arm, and playing with all his might the family march, entitled

“The Campbells are coming,” approached to conduct the envoy of Montrose

to the castle of Ardenvohr. The distance between the galley and the

beach was so short as scarce to require the assistance of the eight

sturdy rowers, in bonnets, short coats, and trews, whose efforts sent

the boat to the little creek in which they usually landed, before one

could have conceived that it had left the side of the birling. Two of

the boatmen, in spite of Dalgetty’s resistance, horsed the Captain on

the back of a third Highlander, and, wading through the surf with him,

landed him high and dry upon the beach beneath the castle rock. In

the face of this rock there appeared something like the entrance of a

low-browed cavern, towards which the assistants were preparing to hurry

our friend Dalgetty, when, shaking himself loose from them with some

difficulty, he insisted upon seeing Gustavus safely landed before he

proceeded one step farther. The Highlanders could not comprehend what he

meant, until one who had picked up a little English, or rather Lowland

Scotch, exclaimed, “Houts! it’s a’ about her horse, ta useless baste.”

Farther remonstrance on the part of Captain Dalgetty was interrupted

by the appearance of Sir Duncan Campbell himself, from the mouth of

the cavern which we have described, for the purpose of inviting Captain

Dalgetty to accept of the hospitality of Ardenvohr, pledging his honour,

at the same time, that Gustavus should be treated as became the hero

from whom he derived his name, not to mention the important person

to whom he now belonged. Notwithstanding this satisfactory guarantee,

Captain Dalgetty would still have hesitated, such was his anxiety to

witness the fate of his companion Gustavus, had not two Highlanders

seized him by the arms, two more pushed him on behind, while a fifth

exclaimed, “Hout awa wi’ the daft Sassenach! does she no hear the Laird

bidding her up to her ain castle, wi’ her special voice, and isna that

very mickle honour for the like o’ her?”

Thus impelled, Captain Dalgetty could only for a short space keep a

reverted eye towards the galley in which he had left the partner of his

military toils. In a few minutes afterwards he found himself involved in

the total darkness of a staircase, which, entering from the low-browed

cavern we have mentioned, winded upwards through the entrails of the

living rock.

“The cursed Highland salvages!” muttered the Captain, half aloud; “what

is to become of me, if Gustavus, the namesake of the invincible Lion of

the Protestant League, should be lamed among their untenty hands!”

“Have no fear of that,” said the voice of Sir Duncan, who was nearer to

him than he imagined; “my men are accustomed to handle horses, both in

embarking and dressing them, and you will soon see Gustavus as safe as

when you last dismounted from his back.”

Captain Dalgetty knew the world too well to offer any farther

remonstrance, whatever uneasiness he might suppress within his own

bosom. A step or two higher up the stair showed light and a door, and

an iron-grated wicket led him out upon a gallery cut in the open face

of the rock, extending a space of about six or eight yards, until he

reached a second door, where the path re-entered the rock, and which was

also defended by an iron portcullis. “An admirable traverse,” observed

the Captain; “and if commanded by a field-piece, or even a few muskets,

quite sufficient to ensure the place against a storming party.”

Sir Duncan Campbell made no answer at the time; but, the moment

afterwards, when they had entered the second cavern, he struck with the

stick which he had in his hand, first on the one side, and then on the

other of the wicket, and the sullen ringing sound which replied to the

blows, made Captain Dalgetty sensible that there was a gun placed on

each side, for the purpose of raking the gallery through which they had

passed, although the embrasures, through which they might be fired on

occasion, were masked on the outside with sods and loose stones. Having

ascended the second staircase, they found themselves again on an open

platform and gallery, exposed to a fire both of musketry and wall-guns,

if, being come with hostile intent, they had ventured farther. A third

flight of steps, cut in the rock like the former, but not caverned over,

led them finally into the battery at the foot of the tower. This last

stair also was narrow and steep, and, not to mention the fire which

might be directed on it from above, one or two resolute men, with pikes

and battle-axes, could have made the pass good against hundreds; for the

staircase would not admit two persons abreast, and was not secured by

any sort of balustrade, or railing, from the sheer and abrupt precipice,

on the foot of which the tide now rolled with a voice of thunder. So

that, under the jealous precautions used to secure this ancient Celtic

fortress, a person of weak nerves, and a brain liable to become dizzy,

might have found it something difficult to have achieved the entrance to

the castle, even supposing no resistance had been offered.

Captain Dalgetty, too old a soldier to feel such tremors, had no sooner

arrived in the court-yard, than he protested to God, the defences of Sir

Duncan’s castle reminded him more of the notable fortress of Spandau,

situated in the March of Brandenburg, than of any place whilk it had

been his fortune to defend in the course of his travels. Nevertheless,

he criticised considerably the mode of placing the guns on the battery

we have noticed, observing, that “where cannon were perched, like to

scarts or sea-gulls on the top of a rock, he had ever observed that

they astonished more by their noise than they dismayed by the skaith or

damage which they occasioned.”

Sir Duncan, without replying, conducted the soldier into the tower; the

defences of which were a portcullis and ironclenched oaken door, the

thickness of the wall being the space between them. He had no sooner

arrived in a hall hung with tapestry, than the Captain prosecuted his

military criticism. It was indeed suspended by the sight of an excellent

breakfast, of which he partook with great avidity; but no sooner had he

secured this meal, than he made the tour of the apartment, examining the

ground around the Castle very carefully from each window in the room.

He then returned to his chair, and throwing himself back into it at his

length, stretched out one manly leg, and tapping his jack-boot with the

riding-rod which he carried in his hand, after the manner of a half-bred

man who affects ease in the society of his betters, he delivered his

unasked opinion as follows:--“This house of yours, now, Sir Duncan, is a

very pretty defensible sort of a tenement, and yet it is hardly such as

a cavaliero of honour would expect to maintain his credit by holding out

for many days. For, Sir Duncan, if it pleases you to notice, your house

is overcrowed, and slighted, or commanded, as we military men say, by

yonder round hillock to the landward, whereon an enemy might stell

such a battery of cannon as would make ye glad to beat a chamade within

forty-eight hours, unless it pleased the Lord extraordinarily to show

mercy.”

“There is no road,” replied Sir Duncan, somewhat shortly, “by which

cannon can be brought against Ardenvohr. The swamps and morasses around

my house would scarce carry your horse and yourself, excepting by such

paths as could be rendered impassable within a few hours.”

“Sir Duncan,” said the Captain, “it is your pleasure to suppose so; and

yet we martial men say, that where there is a sea-coast there is always

a naked side, seeing that cannon and munition, where they cannot be

transported by land, may be right easily brought by sea near to the

place where they are to be put in action. Neither is a castle, however

secure in its situation, to be accounted altogether invincible, or, as

they say, impregnable; for I protest t’ye, Sir Duncan, that I have known

twenty-five men, by the mere surprise and audacity of the attack, win,

at point of pike, as strong a hold as this of Ardenvohr, and put to the

sword, captivate, or hold to the ransom, the defenders, being ten times

their own number.”

Notwithstanding Sir Duncan Campbell’s knowledge of the world, and his

power of concealing his internal emotion, he appeared piqued and hurt

at these reflections, which the Captain made with the most unconscious

gravity, having merely selected the subject of conversation as one upon

which he thought himself capable of shining, and, as they say, of laying

down the law, without exactly recollecting that the topic might not be

equally agreeable to his landlord.

“To cut this matter short,” said Sir Duncan, with an expression of voice

and countenance somewhat agitated, “it is unnecessary for you to

tell me, Captain Dalgetty, that a castle may be stormed if it is not

valorously defended, or surprised if it is not heedfully watched.

I trust this poor house of mine will not be found in any of these

predicaments, should even Captain Dalgetty himself choose to beleaguer

it.”

“For all that, Sir Duncan,” answered the persevering commander, “I would

premonish you, as a friend, to trace out a sconce upon that round

hill, with a good graffe, or ditch, whilk may be easily accomplished by

compelling the labour of the boors in the vicinity; it being the custom

of the valorous Gustavus Adolphus to fight as much by the spade and

shovel, as by sword, pike, and musket. Also, I would advise you to

fortify the said sconce, not only by a foussie, or graffe, but also by

certain stackets, or palisades.”--(Here Sir Duncan, becoming impatient,

left the apartment, the Captain following him to the door, and raising

his voice as he retreated, until he was fairly out of hearing.)--“The

whilk stackets, or palisades, should be artificially framed with

re-entering angles and loop-holes, or crenelles, for musketry, whereof

it shall arise that the foeman--The Highland brute! the old Highland

brute! They are as proud as peacocks, and as obstinate as tups--and here

he has missed an opportunity of making his house as pretty an irregular

fortification as an invading army ever broke their teeth upon.--But I

see,” he continued, looking own from the window upon the bottom of the

precipice, “they have got Gustavus safe ashore--Proper fellow! I would

know that toss of his head among a whole squadron. I must go to see what

they are to make of him.”

He had no sooner reached, however, the court to the seaward, and put

himself in the act of descending the staircase, than two Highland

sentinels, advancing their Lochaber axes, gave him to understand that

this was a service of danger.

“Diavolo!” said the soldier, “and I have got no pass-word. I could not

speak a syllable of their salvage gibberish, an it were to save me from

the provost-marshal.”

“I will be your surety, Captain Dalgetty,” said Sir Duncan, who had

again approached him without his observing from whence; “and we will go

together, and see how your favourite charger is accommodated.”

He conducted him accordingly down the staircase to the beach, and from

thence by a short turn behind a large rock, which concealed the stables

and other offices belonging to the castle, Captain Dalgetty became

sensible, at the same time, that the side of the castle to the land was

rendered totally inaccessible by a ravine, partly natural and partly

scarped with great care and labour, so as to be only passed by a

drawbridge. Still, however, the Captain insisted, not withstanding the

triumphant air with which Sir Duncan pointed out his defences, that a

sconce should be erected on Drumsnab, the round eminence to the east of

the castle, in respect the house might be annoyed from thence by burning

bullets full of fire, shot out of cannon, according to the curious

invention of Stephen Bathian, King of Poland, whereby that prince

utterly ruined the great Muscovite city of Moscow. This invention,

Captain Dalgetty owned, he had not yet witnessed, but observed, “that

it would give him particular delectation to witness the same put to

the proof against Ardenvohr, or any other castle of similar strength;”

observing, “that so curious an experiment could not but afford the

greatest delight to all admirers of the military art.”

Sir Duncan Campbell diverted this conversation by carrying the soldier

into his stables, and suffering him to arrange Gustavus according to

his own will and pleasure. After this duty had been carefully performed,

Captain Dalgetty proposed to return to the castle, observing, it was his

intention to spend the time betwixt this and dinner, which, he presumed,

would come upon the parade about noon, in burnishing his armour, which

having sustained some injury from the sea-air, might, he was afraid,

seem discreditable in the eyes of M’Callum More. Yet, while they were

returning to the castle, he failed not to warn Sir Duncan Campbell

against the great injury he might sustain by any sudden onfall of an

enemy, whereby his horses, cattle, and granaries, might be cut off and

consumed, to his great prejudice; wherefore he again strongly conjured

him to construct a sconce upon the round hill called Drumsnab, and

offered his own friendly services in lining out the same. To this

disinterested advice Sir Duncan only replied by ushering his guest to

his apartment, and informing him that the tolling of the castle bell

would make him aware when dinner was ready.

A Legend of Montrose · 第 10 / 23 章